Rage Against the Machine
by Werepuppy Black
Summary: It's been oddly quiet at St Trinian's lately. It's almost as though it's a real school, and that just can't be. However, things are sure to look up with the arrival of a new girl and Miss Dickinson's ... son?
1. Prologue

_**A/N:**__ Hey! So, erm, here's the prologue to a little fic idea I had. Shouldn't really be a long piece, but we'll see. Tell me what you think, and if you'd like to see it continued. I apologise for shortness now, but its hard not to write without giving it all away. On we go!

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_

_John, _

_I don't know how, or when, this will actually reach you, all I can hope it that it does. I've found … well it's a school, and it's relatively safe - for any given value of safe that is. I've got it set up for yours and the tin man's safe entry into the place; you're just lucky that no one really pays attention to what goes on around this place. All they want is to make sure the students all make it through the year alive. (They're only a danger to each other … and society but maybe society needs shaking up now and then)_

_It's an all girls school though; but don't worry: there's no problem. Like I said, no one pays attention to whats going on around here.. Just … keep to the plan, okay? _

_Your Mother _

**xXx**

"Miss Fritton! Miss Fritton," Ruby Dickinson ran after the Headmistress of St Trinian's, slightly breathless by the time that she had finally caught up with her.

"Yes?" Camilla asked, looking amused with Ruby's breathlessness. "Well what is it dearie?" she asked, rolling her eyes at how long it was taking Ruby to catch her breath. It really wouldn't do, not in St Trinian's.

"It's … well … " Ruby panted, a blush crawling over her cheeks. "I received a letter, from my son's school," she said, sounding completely embarrassed. Camilla stared at the English teacher.

"I didn't know you had a son, dearie," she said, studying her slightly. Another blush crossed Ruby's features.

"Yes … well," she coughed slightly. "He's been expelled from his school," she said, showing Camilla the letter. "He was caught hacking, again," she added, an annoyed tone entering her voice. "I know that this is an all girl's school, and I wouldn't normally dare even considering asking," she pleaded, "but I am at my wit's end. I just …" she sighed, "I don't know what to do with him."

Camilla stared at Ruby for a few moments longer. "What the hell," she said eventually, grinning widely. "It's growing a little stale around here these past few days," she said, shrugging lightly, "we've got a new girl starting in a few days, why not have your son show up on the same day?" she said,

Ruby grinned widely. "Oh thank you, Miss Fritton, you won't regret this … I hope," she added with a nervous smile. Camilla smiled back, wandering off to go and meet Matron, who had told her all about her new cocktail that she simply _had _to sample.

Ruby walked back to her classroom, a satisfied smirk crawling on to her face.

That was easy.


	2. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**__ Short disclaimer to say that if you recognise it, it isn't mine. All I own is the idea of this fic, and the laptop on which it was typed. On we go with the chapter. Oh yeah, the guns mentioned later on are all real guns, but I feel I should point out that I don't personally agree with the idea of guns. I have a passing interest in them though. It's odd. Eh, on to the reading of the chapter with you!

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"Girlies! Girlies!" Camilla called over the loud din in the Assembly hall. "Girlies!" she called once more, before her face fell, a small . The girls continued to chatter loudly so, feeling slightly miffed, Camilla nodded just slightly, and a grin crawled on to Wilhelmina Cleaver's face, as she lifted her favourite small gun, letting out five quick rounds.

The shots did shut every girl up rather quickly

"Now," Camilla clapped her hands happily. "I am delighted to tell you that we have a visitor to our lovely little school here," she smiled widely, as it became very obvious to the girls that she was attempting to paint the picture of the perfect little English boarding school. "May I introduce to you, John Dickinson."

John stepped forward, scowling lightly as a murmur shot round the room. Who knew prim and proper Miss Dickinson had a son? He rolled his eyes at the girls, stomping back to his own seat with a large scowl. Ruby gave him a short look, and he arched his eyebrow. She glared back at him and he shrugged, nodding slightly as he sat down. Camilla stared, having watched the whole exchanged. She shook her head. "As well as John here, we also have a new girl, a Cameron Philips. She'll be in the sixth form who, I'm sure," Camilla smiled over at the girls, "will show her the ropes."

The sixth form girls exchanged glances with each other, as Taylor casually dropped an arm over Cameron's shoulder, the girl turning her head to stare down at the arm as though she had never seen one before. Kelly grinned up at the teachers. "'Course we will Miss," she said, her tongue running along her teeth.

John stared out into the crowd for a few moments, locking eyes with Cameron for only a second before pulling away. This … was going to be interesting.

**xXx**

John sighed, scuffing the grounds as he wandered through the corridors of the school, looking with disinterest at the graffiti on the walls. He supposed his mother had made a wise choice yet again, even if it did mean moving country. Though they had found information which suggested that it all started here, so maybe even moving country was for the best. Even so … it just felt plain _odd_ to see Cameron in a school uniform, not to mention surrounded by other uniformed girls.

As well as many other thoughts that happened to come with the sight, but John had decided to ignore the existence of said thoughts. It was easier that way.

He looked up, having come to the school library. He looked inside, seeing it empty, and a small smile crossed over his lips, opening the doors to enter the library. It was only once inside that he noticed a red-headed girl sitting at one of the back tables, chess set out in front of her, and books open beside her, a pen tapping at a notepad. "…Didn't realise anyone was in here," he muttered, then frowned. "Aren't you meant to be in a class?"

"Aren't you?" she asked back, scribbling on the notepad after cross-checking her thoughts with the book in front of her. She paused, looking up at him with a brief smile. "Polly," she introduced herself, "and we all know who you are," she added in a low mutter.

"Am I meant to be sorry that my Mom wanted me out here?" he asked, looking at her. Polly looked up at him.

"You're American, while she's English," she noted. "I expect that there's some good reasoning behind that," she added, obviously waiting for an explanation, leaning back on her chair and regarding John with a cool eye.

It was times like these he wished his mother wasn't so good at mimicking accents.

"My Dad was American," he said, "I grew up there, lived with my Uncle Derek when Mom came 'back to her home' as she put it," he added. "That enough for you, or do you want details?" he asked, a sarcastic tone entering his voice, as he leaned over to study the chess board carefully. "You've left yourself open for attack, you know," he said casually.

"What?" Polly asked, frowning and looking back at the board. "No I haven't," she said, having studied the board carefully enough to reassure herself. John rolled his eyes, as he leant over and moved the black knight into a new position,

"Check, I believe," he said, grinning slightly. Polly frowned, looking up at him, finding herself interested.

"But now you've left your king unprotected," she pointed out, moving her rook into a new place. "I could win this easily," she added, a slight teasing tone evident in her voice.

"In the game of chess," John said, sitting down opposite her and studying the board carefully, "to win you must be patient, bold and calculating," he told her, making his move. Polly followed this move quickly, taking the piece with a small smirk. John let out a laugh, and she looked up, surprised by the concentration that she saw on his face, and intrigued by the smile that slowly crawled on to it. "But most of all," he said, whispering as though sharing a great secret, "you must be willing to sacrifice," he grinned, moving a piece into position in front of her king. "Checkmate."

He stood, moving over to the shelves and picking up a book. "See ya," he nodded at Polly, wandering out of the library again. Polly stared at his retreating figure, her cheeks heating up in what she was sure was a blush.

**xXx**

"Like, whatever," Taylor muttered softly, "Don't see what I need to be the one in bloody anger management again," she scowled. "The Corpse Bride started it all anyway."

"You were bouncing her head on the ground," came the soft voice of Lisa, a fellow Chav - though only _just_.

"Yeah," Taylor said, grinning as she remembered, "fun though weren't it?" She sighed, resigning herself to the anger management class. At least it got her out of English - the one class that they were actually forced to work in. And anger management did mean getting to use a gun to take out her frustration; maybe if she concentrated enough the target would appear in the shape of the familiar emo girl.

She went along to the usual place for the anger management class, surprised to see that it had been neatened up slightly, with the added bonus of proper targets now, instead of first years wearing ducks on their boaters. Obviously the school actually having money for meant that they could afford to 'splash out' on such things.

She listened vaguely, as Cleaver went through the safety procedures for what felt like the millionth time. Of course, on Cleaver's part, she was fulfilling her job. It was one thing to let even the youngest of girls at the school use a gun, it was another thing entirely to let said girl use the gun without knowing proper safety measures. Eventually, after being suited up with the protective head and eye gear, they were allowed to use the guns.

It was Taylor's opinion that the anger management course offered by St Trinian's was possibly the best course to be offered anywhere in the world. There was something oddly satisfying about firing repeated rounds into the target. That didn't particularly mean she was enjoying herself though, just noting the benefits of it. In her honest opinion, her being there was a huge waste of time. She could be doing something important, like painting her nails.

At least she was good at painting her nails.

When she had grown bored of attempting to fire into the target, with little success, she paused, blinking noticing for the first time that Cleaver was deep in conversation with someone. She blinked again when she noticed that the 'someone' happened to be pushover Dickinson's son.

"…can't honestly be sawing that about a classic!" she said, sounding deeply shocked. John laughed.

"It's one version of a classic," he said simply. "I know someone who swears by a 17-round Glock 9mm semiautomatic," he told her. "For what they want, it works pretty well."

"But the .45 Colt," Cleaver cried, "instant classic," she said, looking at him as though he had attempted to steal her first born child. John just shrugged again.

"If it gets the job done then it could be a Raufoss Mk 211 for all I care," he said shortly, beginning to look slightly bored. "And her over there," he said, pointing to Taylor, "she ever been taught to use one of these things?"

"I teach the girls myself," Cleaver said, a hint of pride in her voice. John smirked.

"Explains why she's using it the wrong way then," he said, moving over to her, as Cleaver spluttered in outrage. He took the gun off her. "See, you're holding with your fingers too close to the barrel, and that could end badly," he explained, laughing lightly. "Try it like this," he demonstrated the correct hold to her, firing off five rounds with an ease she'd never seen anyone have, not even Cleaver. He reminded her of the cop shows on five, where they just knew what to do with the weapons they were handed.

Watching him as he cleaned the barrel and reloaded, she became aware that this wasn't just some little boy posing, he knew exactly what he was doing. He had used a gun before, maybe that was the real reason he was out here. There was a 'bad boy' vibe around him, Taylor noted, a small glint in her eye, as she licked her lips slightly.

It was, she decided, a _very_ likable thing.

John handed her back the gun with a small grin, nodding once before wandering away quickly, having realised Cleaver was ready to fire rounds into him. Taylor watched him walking away with an appraising look.

"_Nice,_" she said out loud, tilting her head for a better look.

**xXx**

Andrea wandered the grounds of the school with her usual melancholy set firmly in place. She had been excused from lessons for the day due to the trauma of having her head bouncing off the ground, while Taylor had been forced into anger management for the 'crime'. She wasn't all that bothered by it really, just wished that she could get the upper hand just once.

On arriving at a particularly quiet spot, Andrea sat down on the grass, staring out at the - surprisingly - clean school lake, sighing deeply, though it wasn't exactly a sad sigh. It was times like this that she remembered just why she loved St Trinian's, her odd little school. It fitted with odd little her, if she was completely honest. "In the greenest of our valleys, by good angels tenanted, once a fair and stately palace - radiant palace - reared its head," she murmured slightly, twisting to look back at the old manor that served as the school.

"It stood there! Never a seraph spread a pinion over fabric half so fair," a male voice said, completing the stanza, and causing Andrea to jump. "Edgar Allen Poe, the Haunted Palace," John said, looking over from where he sat, in the few shadows provided by the trees.

"I didn't see you there," Andrea accused him, her eyes narrowing slightly. John laughed.

"No one sees me anymore," he said, "not unless I want them to." Andrea considered this, her eyes still narrowed, studying John.

"You know the works of Poe?" she asked, vaguely impressed. John held up the book in his hands, which she recognised being the school's own copy of the book of Poe's poems. It was well worn, with many an Emo having thumbed their way through it.

"It was this or romance novels," he remarked dryly. He paused, looking at the rest of the poem. "You think it suits this place?" he asked her. Andrea sniffed.

"As good as any a place," she said haughtily. John frowned, looking at how the poem ended.

"And travellers, now, within that valley, though the red-litten windows see vast forms, that move fantastically, to a discordant melody. While, like a ghastly rapid river, through the pale door, a hideous through rush out forever and laugh - but smile no more," he read, looking up at Andrea, who grinned widely. He looked up at the school, and then down at Andrea. "I might just believe it," he told her, handing her over the book and standing, opting to go back in out of the cold that he felt.

Andrea watched him as he left, sighing slightly. She had never known anyone to actually go and read Poe's other poems, most just thought his only work was 'the Raven.' She continued to watch him, sighing once more as another of Poe's poems came to mind. "My heart would feel to be a crime, unless it trembled with the strings."

**xXx**

"What have you been doing all day?" Ruby's voice was harsh, lacking in any of the softness it usually had. It was also lacking in it's usual English accent, adopting a more natural sounding American one. John looked up from the book he was reading; finding it more interesting that the Poe poems.

"I went for a walk, played a game of chess, had some target practice, and then read a book of Poe's stuff," he answered, looking back down, leaning back on his chair to get more comfortable.

"You stay out of trouble?" she asked.

"Always Mom," he answered. "Seen Cameron?" he asked. Ruby sighed, wondering once more why her son cared so much about that girl.

"I'll check on her later," she said as evenly as she could manage. "She's in the girl's dorms and you need to be seen to be obeying the basic of rules here," she told him. "Remember, we have to stay…"

"Off the radar," John completed the sentence. "I know Mom, it's why we took these new names, and why we moved out here," he added, rolling his eyes. "Off the radar means off the system meaning we're safe. I get it, okay?"

"I want you safe John," Ruby said. John looked up at her.

"I know Mom," he said softly, "I know." Ruby sighed, looking at the ground.

"Go get some food John," she said. He nodded and stood. "John?"

"Yeah?"

"… It doesn't matter," she said, smiling warmly. John nodded, leaving the room to go down to the kitchens. Ruby sighed, leaning against the closed door, closing her eyes. "We're safe here," she muttered, as though trying to convince herself.


	3. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**__ Woot, next chapter. Slightly shorter but I wanted this to be it's own little chapter-y piece. On we go

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"So ... Cameron," Chelsea began, smiling falsely at the new girl, who stared silently back at her. It was quite unnerving really, the way she seemed to be able to stare for ages without once blinking. "What's it like, being from Los Angles?" she asked brightly.

"...Unique," Cameron answered in an emotionless voice. She looked around at the mess of the dorm room. "This isn't efficient," she commented on the chaos. Chelsea laughed nervously. "But secure," she added, bring another nervous laugh from the head of the Posh Totty.

"Why would it be anything but secure?" Chelsea asked.

"No reason," Cameron replied, returning to staring unblinkingly at Chelsea, who simply sighed, finally connecting the action with a reaction she often gained. It was often that people, both male and female stared at her, she _was _gorgeous after all. Making sure that no one would notice, Chelsea studied the new girl with a critical eye. She might just fit into the Posh Totty lot, she met the physical and aesthetic requirements. And it was a bonus that she didn't talk much, as that would mean it would be that much easier into convincing her to saying the 'right' things. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I wasn't ... I wouldn't ... oh shut up!" Chelsea said, and had her foundation not been that high quality high priced brand that she always insisted on buying, it would have betrayed signs of an embarrassed blush.

"That was the first time I had spoken without it being in return to a question you asked," Cameron pointed out, her monotone making her seem depressed though she was expressionless. Maybe, Chelsea considered, this new girl would fit in better with the Emo's than with the Posh Totty. She would need to speak to Andrea about it all.

Speaking of the Emo ... she could be heard chattering loudly to Kelly as the pair entered the dorm room. " ... and he quoted from my favourite. I mean, yeah he had the book open in front of him, but he was aware that there was more to Poe than 'The Raven'," she grinned happily. "He's just ... he's so sensitive," she finished, in what Chelsea was positive was a sigh.

"I'm glad," Kelly grinned, looking as though she was holding back laughter. Andrea opened her mouth to speak again.

"Oi! Kel!" Taylor yelled, storming into the room and effectively cutting off Andrea from whatever it was that she had planned. "I have got to tell you 'bout wimpy Dickinson's son," she gabbled. "He's such a little bad ass," she told them, flinging herself backwards on to her bed, "and talking of that arse..."

"You can't be talking about John," Kelly said, frowning slightly at Taylor. "Not the Poe fan-boy?"

"I mean John Dickinson, armed, dangerous, and such a killer smile," Taylor sighed, looking up at the dorm room ceiling with a dreamy smile. "Put Cleaver right in her place, he did, and proved himself more than good with a gun."

Kelly stared, looking between Andrea and Taylor with a slight frown. "Right," she said slowly, wondering how badly this was all going to blow up in front of them. "So, he's a gun toting Poe-fanboy," she said, shrugging lightly. "We've seen odder."

"His dad probably encouraged the knowledge in guns," Andrea nodded, looking up to the ceiling, lost in the tale she was spinning. "We know he was American, he probably hated the idea of his son being all sensitive the way he is."

"Yeah, right!" Taylor spat, glaring over at Andrea. "More like he took up guns as a way of getting away from those soppy poems that his Mum would shove on them," she smirked slightly, "she is a boring English teacher after all."

"Whatever version's true," Kelly cut in quickly, looking to head off the obviously upcoming fight before it even started, "it doesn't mean that you should both lose your heads so quickly." She found herself rolling her eyes at the way her friends were behaving. "He's only a boy." Andrea and Taylor both threw her withering glares, stomping out of the dorm, muttering darkly. Kelly sighed.

"He plays chess," a soft voice came from the door of the dorm.

"What's that Polly?" Chelsea asked, smiling over at the head of the Geeks with good intentions. As far as it stood, Chelsea was oddly fond of Polly. She often looked on her as a little doll, who she would love the chance to dress up, as Chelsea highly suspected that if not under the restrictions of the geek dress code, Polly would possibly show her own natural beauty much better. Chelsea was a firm believer that everyone had their own beauty, they just needed to find the right way to show it.

"John," she said, the smallest of blushes apparent in her cheeks. "He plays chess." Chelsea blinked, exchanging a slightly nervous glance with Kelly's. Well, her own glance was slightly nervous, Kelly's was its usual somewhat cold and slightly calculating self. "He plays chess a bit better than me, won a game against me."

"... Oh .... sugar," Kelly said, wishing that she could hit her head off of a very hard surface, as she realised just what had happened. She also wished that she could smack a one John Dickinson very hard.

"He's not theirs."

"What?" Kelly asked, turning to face Cameron, who had been listening attentively to each of the three girls speaking. "What did you just say?"

"He's not theirs," Cameron said, looking at them with an unemotional stare. "He'll never belong to them," she finished, standing and leaving the room. Chelsea stared.

"That's the most she's said," she remarked casually. Kelly glanced at Chelsea, before looking back at the door, eyes narrowing slightly.

"I think I should have a word with Mr. Dickinson, since he's made _such_ an impression."


	4. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**__I'm sorry this is so late up, it's been busy lately so I just jumped at some free time I had and typed up the rest of this chapter. I'll need to have a word with my 'partner in crime' about where this is going actually, as I seem to have lost my original notes. So yes, apologies for this chapter being extraordinary late after the last update, and apologies for it being rather short. But do enjoy!

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"We're going to get caught out," Ruby said, looking down at her son with something akin to fear in her eyes. Not that it was such an unusual thing for any of them to feel fear, well, expect the Tin Girl, but that was to be expected after all. "It's almost too good, the set up here, and that never seems to last."

"Because you never give it a chance to, Mom," John shot back, not looking up from the laptop. His mother had been on this strain of her ever present worries since he had returned from getting a bite to eat. "Everything I find out about this place, the more chances I think we've got, even by accident," he looked up, almost amused at her. "You know that an old headmistress of this place played an ex-Prime Minister to keep the school open?"

"I've heard the history of this place," Ruby commented, looking over at her son. "What are you doing on there?" she asked, curious despite herself. John shrugged.

"Looking up the history. St Trinian's has got quite the reputation, kinda fun to read about actually," he admitted with a small grin. Ruby noticed how odd the gesture looked on him. It did seem like lately there wasn't a lot to smile about. "It's classed as a high security inland threat. Look, it's the banner on the website," he turned the laptop round to show Ruby what he was talking about. Ruby gave a soft laugh. "So, erm how's Cameron?"

Ruby stared at her son. He was so unusually attached to that machine. "Probably in her dorm room, like the rest of the girls should be," she answered blithely. "Speaking of which, I have a message from Miss Fritton in relation to girls for you," she said. John looked up.

"Oh?" Ruby smirked slightly.

"Off limits."

**xXx**

Kelly Jones stopped on her way down to find John Dickinson, realising that she wasn't exactly sure whereabouts in the building his room was. She suspected that he would be housed over in the teachers' wing of the school, but then again, she couldn't be entirely sure on that. She sighed slightly - things were so much easier when the teachers actually remembered to tell her things, how was she meant to run this school without the information she needed?

"I'm just saying John," she could heard Miss Dickinson's voice echoing the hallway; "you need to be careful on what you look up. You aren't exactly subtle about what you're doing ..."

"Mom, I know what I'm doing," John replied, sounding to Kelly as though this was a conversation that had been had too many times before, and that John in particular didn't want to be having yet again. She was entirely correct, of course, but how was she to know that? "Just … for once, show some trust in me?" he asked, turning and stalking away down the corridor, in the direction of where Kelly was standing. Ruby stared silently at her son, before re-entering the room, and thus not seeing the moment when John and Kelly finally met. By literally bumping into each other.

Up close to him, Kelly could rather see what Taylor had been on about. He was attractive in a way, and she did find herself briefly flustered. Well, that just would not do. "John Dickinson?" Kelly said, quickly dropping into her business like persona, pushing anything else to the very back of her mind. John stared at her for a moment, surprised.

"Present," he remarked, "and I would be talking to?"

"Kelly Jones, Head Girl," she replied, smirking slightly at him. She did love the way her title sounded. John's eyebrow rose just slightly.

"How lovely for you," he commented. Kelly glared. "I was actually being sincere there," John assured her with a half grin, "I've read up on this school. Being Head Girl of a place like this is quite a feat indeed. I can't help but wonder how you manage it."

"By not taking any prisoners," Kelly replied quickly, "or letting anyone think they can sweet talk their way around me," she added rather pointedly. John inwardly winced, wondering if he really had been that easy to see through. He really did need to work on that.

"And with that being said, _John_," she said, her lips curling into a long, slow, easy smile that once upon a time would have decided whether a man lived or died, "I think it's time we have a little _chat._"


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:**__ It's been a while, but here, have a new chapter!

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"Your real name isn't John Dickinson, is it?" Kelly said. She and John were both sitting in the common room, which had been hastily vacated on Kelly's orders. She studied him carefully, noting that he had positioned himself in such a way that he could see all the exits of the room, and seemed to be on edge.

"Does it matter either way?" John asked, studying Kelly in return. It was amusing, almost, to see the two together. Both sat as though they were on edge, looking on alert, and wary of each other. "For all I know, you're not who you say you are either," he pointed out, not entirely unreasonably when considering the reputation of the school. It was the most wretched hive of villainy and scum, and all were afraid of the students of it. Of course, that never stopped them always gaining students each year, and the students going on to live fairly decent lives afterwards, but still, it was a reputation that stuck with the girls all their lives. Once a St Trinian girl, always a St Trinian girl.

"She is who she says she is," Cameron entered the room, staring at John expressionlessly. He turned round to face her fully, a questioning look on his face at her words. "We can trust her," she added, causing a small frown to appear on Kelly's face. John nodded. "She should be told," Cameron advised. John sighed, his shoulders dropping.

"Told what, exactly?" Kelly interjected. She wasn't entirely pleased at being talked about as though she wasn't actually in the room with them, finding it very grating. "Well?" she demanded, leaning back in her chair, an eyebrow raised in questioning at the pair. John licked his lips nervously, though Cameron showed no signs of any emotion, something that was, as Kelly was quickly becoming aware of, perfectly normal for the other girl.

"My name's John Connor, and my mom really is my mom, her name's Sarah Connor," he explained. "We're here on the search of, well, to stop the creation of an artificial intelligence that when launched will cause... we call it Judgement Day." He paused, looking up at Kelly. "Do you believe me?"

"Not really, no," Kelly answered.

"But you're still listening to me," John pointed out, hints of a smile on his face. Kelly kept a calm resolve on her face.

"Then keep talking."

**xXx**

Polly was doing her usual boredom habit of hacking into some of the police databases. Usually this was just to make sure that they hadn't ended up on the Most Wanted lists again, but there really was no reason behind it tonight. She suspected that she was doing purely because she could. She had managed to hack into the FBI database, something which she hadn't done in a while, and was enjoying her brief search through the different pages, laughing at her amusement that the same back door she had used to gain access the first time still hadn't been fixed yet.

Something flashed on the screen, making her pause, and hover over the image. It was a fairly simple picture, one that was obviously taken when the subject wasn't completely aware of it, but most likely taken by a close friend, or loved one. The subject seemed relaxed, and happy, and incredibly familiar. She scrolled up slightly, to read the text that came along with the picture:

**LAST NAME:** _Connor _  
**FIRST NAME:** _Sarah_  
**M.I.:**  
**KNOWN ALIASES:** _Sarah_ _Reese, Sarah Baum, Sarah Gale_  
**STATUS:** _Escape from Pescadero State Hospital. Whereabouts unknown. At large._  
**LAST KNOWN OCCUPATION:** _Waitress_  
**SEX:** _Female_  
**AGE:** _33_  
**PLACE OF BIRTH**: _Los Angeles, CA  
_**RACE:** _Caucasian_  
**HEIGHT:** _5'4"_  
**WEIGHT:** _110_  
**HAIR:** _Black_  
**EYES:** _Green_  
**MARKS/TATTOOS:** Puncture _scarring front and back right shoulder. Multiple combat scars._  
**KNOWN ASSOCIATES:** _Charley Dixon, fiancé. John Connor, son, 16._  
**FEDERAL WARRANT:** _Murder, attempted murder, armed assault &battery, armed robbery, assault & battery, domestic terrorism, kidnapping, arson of United States government property and property used in interstate commerce, arson of a building_  
**REMARKS:** _At large. Armed and dangerous. Approach with extreme caution. Trained in the use of military grade firearms, handguns, edged weapons, explosives, and hand-to-hand combat. If contact is made, utilization of FBI HRT is highly recommended._

Polly stared in shock. This had to be a complete coincidence. Ruby Dickson, the most timid teacher that had ever had the misfortune of stepping foot in St Trinian's, was really Sarah Connor, a terrorist by another other name? It had to be wrong, they would have known if Miss Dickinson was duping them, surely. Maybe she just had a cousin who looked a lot like her. Polly shook her head, and moved further into the file. There was one way to prove that this was all just a mistake.

A picture came up, dashing all her hopes.

Ruby Dickinson was Sarah Connor, meaning that the sweet, yet tough, and smart boy that was John Dickinson, was really John Connor, who had his own rap sheet the same length as his mother's.

**xXx**

"So when is all this meant to happen?" Kelly asked, looking between John and Cameron.

"April 11th 2011," Cameron answered back quickly. John sighed.

"We're going to find a way of stopping it," he said, then much quieter. "At least, I hope we will." He looked down. Every time it seemed like they had gotten one over Skynet, something happened to show them that, no, all they had done was annoy it. It was almost as though something was deliberately preventing them from making any progress whatsoever. It got irritating.

"You help," Cameron said to Kelly. "In the future, you act as a general, a great tactical mind," she informed them. Kelly looked unsurprised at this. She was Head Girl of St Trinian's, after all "With his help." Now Kelly looked confused. Since when did she need anyone's help, let 'his' help?

"Who's help?" John asked, clearly confused by Cameron's cryptic statement. Cameron turned to face John, focusing on him.

"Her husband."


End file.
